


Spoils of War

by foggysundays



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bets & Wagers, Bottom Jensen, College, Exhibitionism, Football, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Public Sex, Reference to Past Top Jensen, Top Jared, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggysundays/pseuds/foggysundays
Summary: Jensen is the captain of his college's football team and they're playing their rival college for the grand final. Thing is, there's a strong, yet quiet tradition between the two rival schools. The captain of the winning team gets to fuck the captain of the losing team in the showers after the match.





	Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this spnkink meme prompt](https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/128125.html?thread=44301437#t44301437).
> 
> I don´t know anything about football, so any jersey colors are totally accidental and have nothing to do with reality.  
> Unbetad, so sorry for any mistakes.

He´s alone when they find him.

His team´s long gone, has fled the scene with their tails between their legs right after the game, heads bent low and spirits even lower, disappointment and frustration darkening their faces. They´re probably gathered at Nick´s house right now, drowning their defeat in alcohol and trying not to think about the price he has to pay for their failure.

It´s a luxury that is not afforded to him and by now the anticipation is nearly killing him, his body thrumming with adrenaline that has nothing to do with the after-game-buzz and everything to do with the fact that he´s about to get fucked by a virtual stranger.

They´ve kept him waiting for nearly an hour – enough time for his brain to come up with one ridiculous scenario after the other and for anxiety to set in.

After all, it´s his first time on this side of the bargain.

Usually it´s _him_ swaggering into the shower with a shit-eating grin on his face, body still sweaty and dirty from the game, eyes ablaze with the thrill of victory. Him joking with his friends, _him_ palming his cock through his thin shorts, _him_ raking his eyes all over the poor loser kneeling on the bathroom floor.

Not tonight, though.

Tonight, he´s the prey.

There´s seven of them lurking at the doorway - three players flanking their Captain on every side, broad shoulders made even broader by their protective gear, gazes speculative as they fix him with their hungry stares.

He tries not to smirk at that, knows he looks damn fine kneeling on the tiled floor of the stadium bathroom in nothing but skin-tight boxer briefs and a jersey that has the _wrong_ colors, the wrong _name_. It´s one of _theirs_ , dark-blue-and-yellow instead of his usual bordeaux-and-white, the name on his back a symbol of ownership, not a means of identification.

He´s an offering, the very picture of shy innocence and easy submission and he´s expected to stick to that role.

It´s part of the Code, part of the ritual – it doesn’t matter how close his team came to kicking the skinny asses of their rivals, fate has not been on their side tonight and being defeated always comes with a side note of humiliation and temporary loss of control.

He´s accepted those odds a long time ago - it´s a price he´s willing to pay for the honor of being the Captain, and up until now he has never come to regret it. Losing the finals _sucks_ , however, and come morning he´ll probably be fucking angry about it and throw himself into training like a madman, working his ass off to ensure that something like this won´t happen again. Ever. He´s not a big fan of losing.

Right now, macho shit like that doesn’t matter though. He´s been looking forward to this part of the game the whole week and even the unexpected role reversal is not enough to throw him off. Sex is sex, as far as he´s concerned; a hot guy´s a hot guy and who cares about minor logistic details when he can get both in one delicious package?

Especially since it´s _him_ he has to give himself over to.

Jensen looks up, ignores the spectators and leering gazes and focuses his attention on the man right at the front of the group.

Jared Padalecki. The rising star of College football and official owner of Jensen´s ass for the next thirty minutes.

He´s one gorgeous motherfucker, a freaking giant, built like a brickhouse.

Even surrounded by his teammates he stands out like a fucking beacon, dwarves them with his huge frame and broad chest and fuck, Jensen hopes the dude´s going to take his shirt off, because _goddamn_ , he really, really needs to see if those muscles are as firm and perfect as they look under all that fabric.

Jensen´s watched the guy the whole day, has seen him goof around with his teammates, joke with the referee and flirt with the cheerleaders – he seems like a good guy, more class clown than arrogant jock, the kind of person that is friends with everyone and everything and laughs loudly at the slightest provocation.

There´s not much left of that person right now, though. The man in front of is staring at Jensen like he´s about to devour him, body tense and muscles coiled as he silently sizes him up. Padalecki looks like some ancient war hero fresh from the battle grounds, come to claim his rightful price, and it probably shouldn’t be hot to be the helpless girl in this scenario, but Jesus fucking Christ, Jensen´s been half hard since the end of their game and the way this guy is looking at him right now is _so_ not helping.

“ _Strip_.”

The command is soft but firm – Jensen´s compliance has already been earned, there´s no way out of this if he doesn’t want to shame both himself _and_ his team and oh, don´t they all know it?

So he stand and pulls his shirt off, lets his hands trail down his naked torso and cups himself through his boxers before slowly inching the fabric lower and lower, all the way down his thighs until they pool at his ankles – it´s a goddamn strip show, meant to tease and get those guys riled up, because yeah, he might be the one getting fucked tonight but there´s no way he´s not getting some fun out of this!

For a few seconds he just stands there, buck naked and flushed, cock rock hard and throbbing while seven fully clothed football players drink him in with undisguised want in their faces.

Not that they can do anything about it - his ass belongs to Padalecki and _only_ to him, no one else will touch or fuck him without his explicit consent. None of other players are allowed to come closer, have to keep their distance, can only watch and jerk off, _wish_ it was _them_ fucking him.

No photographs, no videos, no audio, no long-term consequences. He´s going to pay his debt of honor and be out of here right after. No harm, no foul.

Jensen tenses anyway when Padalecki steps closer and starts circling him slowly. As cliché as it sounds, he can feel the guy´s gaze like fire on his skin, goosebumps rising as he waits for a touch that never comes. Any other time and he´d run his mouth to get the idiot to quit teasing, but the rules are clear. He´s not the one calling the shots right now, is not allowed to move without instructions or talk without permission. It´s already driving him freaking insane.

“Turn around. Arms on that wall, ass out.”

Jensen´s dick twitches and he obeys instantly, braces himself against the wall and spreads his legs wide enough to give his audience a good look at what he has to offer.

He shivers. Huh, who knew he liked being on the _submissive_ end of this little power play... Definitely something worth looking into once this is over.

His pondering is effectively cut short when two large hands plant themselves right on his ass cheeks, fingers digging into the muscles and squeezing roughly. Padalecki is a long line of heat at his back, he can _feel_ the guy looming over him and it´s both disconcerting and hot as fuck. Shit, that dude can probably snap him like a twig if he feels like it and if even half the rumors are true, he won´t even need to use his hands for that. Guy´s supposed to be fucking proportional and if the bulge in those shorts is any indication, Jensen´s gonna be freaking sore for _weeks_.

Jensen sucks in a breath when thick thumbs slide between his cheeks to spread him open, exposing fucking _everything_.

“ _Jesus_ , look at you. All wet and slick for me already.” Padalecki sounds every bit as wrecked as Jensen feels, and they moan in unison when the guy presses one finger against his opening and it slips right in, no resistance whatsoever. Fuck, even the dude´s fingers are fucking gigantic and Jensen´s suddenly very, very happy that he used his fifty-minute waiting period to prepare himself thoroughly. He´s going to need every bit of prep he can get.

“You couldn’t wait, huh?” The digit is slowly pumping in and out of him while another finger teasingly circles his rim. “God, I wish I could have seen that. Watched you fuck yourself on your fingers, open yourself up nice and slow…. Did you wish it was me, Ackles? Hoped I´d walk in here a bit earlier than expected?”

Jensen only moans– he knows he´s being goaded and he can´t answer verbally, not unless Padalecki tells him to and that hasn’t happened yet.

He´s allowed to make other sounds, though, and thank fuck for that or he´d probably go out of his mind when Padalecki starts to fuck him open on his fingers in earnest. The guy knows what he´s doing and he´s fucking thorough, has him writhing on three fingers and ready to shoot in a matter of minutes and the little fucker hasn’t even touched his prostate yet.

Jensen´s vaguely aware of the low murmur of voices in the background, whispers and grunts and the slick sound of guys jerking off, but he couldn’t care less about their audience right now. Not when his dick is throbbing like crazy and dripping precome all over the floor – he fucking needs to come, needs it so badly he´d beg for it if he could, but Padalecki seems to enjoy the show and flat out refuses to give him more. Bloody bastard.

“Greedy little thing, aren´t you? Fuckin desperate for my cock.” Padalecki pulls his fingers back and chuckles at Jensen´s groan of protest.

Hot breath tickles Jensen´s ear as the other captain leans closer, “Tell me, Ackles, did you lose _on purpose_? Did you fuck up that last tackle because you _wanted_ _me_ to fuck you, to wreck your tight little ass with my big cock? I´ve seen you play and that mistake was fucking stupid... Not your usual M.O., not at all.” Padalecki´s voice is smooth and thick like caramel and it burns a bright path of arousal right down to Jensen’s groin.

He manages to shake his head vehemently, but it´s a weak defense and they both know it. What he did _was_ stupid, and while it might not have been a deliberate act of sabotage, it can certainly be attributed to his distraction. He´s way too experienced to try a shitty move like that under normal circumstances, and he´s already been yelled at by their coach for the whole thing. He certainly deserved it, too – staring at other people´s asses is no valid excuse for loosing such an important game.

The giant wall behind him laughs. “It doesn’t really matter though, does it?”

Padalecki presses closer, allows their bodies to touch head to toe for the first time, scratchy fabric all over Jensen´s back, one possessive hand spreading itself over his chest and pinching his nipples. There´s a long, hard cock nestled between his ass cheeks, freaking huge and hot and _shit_ , Jensen really, really wants that thing up his ass right the fuck now.

“We´re thankful, you know?" Padalecki murmurs against his ear, hot tongue licking up the sweat on Jensen´s temple. "Really wanted to win this game and it´s only thanks to _you_ that we did… Gonna give you your reward, baby, don´t worry.”

The bastard ignores Jensen´s whimpering protest, pulls back slightly and then Jensen can feel the sticky press of naked flesh against his bare ass. Skin on skin, fucking finally!

“Beg, _Jensen_. I wanna hear you fucking beg for my cock, tell me how much you want this!”

His brain short-circuits at those words and he has to press one hand against the base of his dick to keep himself from coming. Holy fucking hell, this guy is going to freaking kill him!

It takes him a bit to find his voice and even then it sounds foreign to his own ears, all breathless and gravel-rough and absolutely wrecked.

“Fuck me, Padalecki! C´mon, _please_! Freaking do it already or I´ll climb you and do it myself!”

Technically that would probably qualify as _demanding_ rather than _begging_ , but Jensen´s way beyond caring right now. Padalecki doesn’t seem to mind either, because he only curses and a second later something huge and thick is pressing against Jensen´s asshole.

“Wish your team could see you right now, their proud captain writhing on my cock...”

The little fucker is not gentle when he pushes in, fingers digging into Jensen´s hips hard enough to leave bruises and then there´s just pressure and friction and Jesus, he´s full, so fucking _full_!

And well, that´s it. Game fucking over.

Jensen´s coming just like that, untouched, just at the feeling of that dick up his ass, the stretch and burn of it too much, toppling him over the edge without warning. He´s shaking through one hell of an orgasm, nearly sobbing as he spills all over the floor, distantly aware that it´s only Padalecki and the wall that are keeping him somewhat upright, his own legs suddenly too weak to support his weight.

It takes him a few minutes to come back down, to slowly become aware of the deafening silence, his own harsh breathing the only sound in the crowded room, Padalecki obviously frozen in shock behind him.

Shit.

Jensen tenses, licks his dry lips, tries to think of something to say that will get rid of all that awkwardness and his embarrassment. Talk about stamina, huh?

But before he can dig himself an even deeper hole, Padalecki takes a shuddering breath and drops his forehead on Jensen´s shoulder. The strands of his long hair tickle and his hands are shaking slightly when they soothingly move up and down Jensen´s shivering thighs.

“ _Holy shit_. Did you just come? Just from my cock up your ass?”

Surprisingly, there´s no mockery in Padalecki´s voice. Quite the contrary, really, it sounds more like…

“That is so fucking _hot_!”

Padalecki experimentally moves his hips, rocks into him carefully and forces another whimper from Jensen´s mouth. He´s an oversensitive mess right now but this still feels way to fucking good.

“You´re absolutely amazing, I mean – Jesus, that was… Fuck!”

Padalecki begins to move more coordinated then, picks up a rhythm, slow and steady, hands sliding over Jensen´s sweaty skin and making him shiver.

“Guess I´ll have to make you come a second time now, huh? Pound your tight little ass till you´re hard and dripping again… Think you can do that?”

Jensen growls, clenches his muscles around Padalecki´s cock and shoves his ass back as hard as he can. He smirks at the choked off moan the movement earns him and changes his position slightly to give himself more leverage – he´s not about to just stand here and take it, time to show those fuckers that he still has some fight in himself.

“Show me what you got, Padalecki!”

And _holy fuck_ , he does. Those giant hands are bracketing Jensen´s hips like a fucking vice as Padalecki starts to fuck him in earnest, angles his dick so that it´s rubbing against Jensen´s prostate and then pounds his ass like there´s no tomorrow.

Well, Jensen´s not about to be outdone and he gives as good as he gets, uses every trick in his book to make Padalecki lose it and growls filth at him to get him to go faster.

Apparently their shared competitive streak translates strongly into their sex live and that makes for one hell of a fuck. It´s rough and hard and bruising all over, and Jensen´s pretty sure he´s going to regret this as soon as he tries to sit down for the next time but right now he doesn’t give a damn.

He´s hard again, cock flushed and angry, begging to be touched and he curses loudly when Padalecki seems to think the same thing and wraps one of his huge hands around him, jacking him off with practiced ease. The friction is fucking awesome and just on the right side of painful, and Jensen´s probably going to develop an inferiority complex soon – he´s always been rather proud of his dick size but this guy´s King Kong paws can _seriously_ give a guy issues…

The thought´s lost a moment later to a sharp burst of pleasure when Padalecki fucks into him at just the right angle and he doesn’t even try to stifle his groan, pushes back as hard as he can, tries to keep up with the stuttering rhythm of the other man´s hips.

A few more thrusts and then Padalecki´s coming, body shuddering and cock jerking as he spills deep inside Jensen´s ass. The guy´s considerate enough to keep jacking him off all the way through it, adds a few twists that have Jensen fall over the edge only moments later with a long string of curses.

They nearly collapse against the wall, both a total mess, sweaty and panting and completely unable to form a coherent sentence, let alone _move_. Jensen´s blood is still thundering in his ears – it´s almost loud enough to cover up the sounds of harsh breathing and rustling fabric that comes from the other guys behind them.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

They stay like this for a few moments, pressed together until their breathing gradually turns to normal and their heartbeats slow down to a less frantic pace. Padalecki finally presses a small kiss right between his sweaty shoulder blades and then pulls back reluctantly. Jensen winces when his soft cock slips out of Jensen´s ass - God, he´s definitely going to feel this for a while.

He takes another deep breath and then pushes off the wall, turns around and freezes at the sight of the fluffy towel that is held out to him.

Padalecki offers an awkward half-smile.

“I thought maybe you wanted to, you know, cover yourself up or something?”

Jensen stares.

This is beyond normal – usually it´s just a quick fuck, fast and dirty, an orgasm or two for everyone involved, a short check-up to see that all participants are fine and then everyone´s on their separate ways again.

It´s like Fight Club, they don’t talk about it.

But Padalecki – _Jared_ \- is still here, embarrassed and inexplicably nervous, but here. He´s disposed of the condom and tucked himself away already (and yeah, Jensen´s a bit sad about that part, still didn’t get to see that gorgeous cock of his, but well, there´s going to be other games…), has obviously send his teammates out and now he´s holding out a towel and an unopened bottle of Gatorade.

It´s sweet and adorable and all sorts of screwing with the protocol. Not to mention Jensen brain.

Jared visibly relaxes in relief when he takes the towel and wraps it around himself and the kid´s downright ecstatic when he accepts the bottle right after.

“Are you alright? I mean, I hope that wasn’t too rough? I´m normally less…. forceful with people I haven’t even talked to yet, but I got carried away and – “

“I´m _fine_. More than, actually. In case you hadn’t noticed: you made me come my brains out. Twice. That was freaking hot, man – and don’t worry about the manhandling, you might have the size of a goddamn planet but I can still kick your ass if I want to, dude.”

That one coaxes a laugh out of the guy.

“Good. That´s good…. Me, too, by the way… This was my first time doing all of this.” Padalecki gestures at the room. “Kinda freaked me out, you know. I´m not usually… and you´re _you_ , so yeah I was… nervous.”

Jensen raises one eyebrow.

“You sure as hell didn’t act like a freaked-out newbie.”

Jesus Christ, the kid fucking _blushes_ at that. Bright red, all the way up to his ears and then he shuffles around awkwardly. There´s clearly more he wants to say, so Jensen calmly sips his Gatorade and watches Jared gather his courage for whatever´s coming next.

“Can I give you my number?” The kid finally blurts out, “You know, in case you´d wanted to meet up and discuss football or something? I mean you´re one of the best players in the League right now and I´d really love to discuss some ideas with you or… Fuck, this is awkward, isn´t it? I´m making this so awkward and you probably think I´m a complete idiot and you.. I... anyway, maybe - “

“Jared!” Jensen´s barley able to hold back his laughter at this point and judging by the hurt-puppy-look Padalecki throws him, he´s not doing a very good job of hiding his amusement.

Jesus, could the guy be any more adorable? Gone´s the Sex God who just fucked him into next week – that right here in front of him is nothing but a rambling, floppy haired kid asking his crush out on a date. And for fuck´s sake, the dude is pretty much fanboying over him, isn´t he?

The whole situation is fucking ridiculous, Jensen´s still only wearing a towel and is covered in come and sweat and God knows what, while Jared´s fully clothed and looking like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him.

It´s adorable and Jensen doesn’t think twice about grabbing Padalecki´s shirt and pulling him down for a kiss. It´s a rather violent breach of protocol and Jared would have every right to push him back and punch him in the face for this audacity.

He doesn’t, though. Instead he sighs and opens his mouth eagerly, let´s Jensen take his mouth in a slow, deep kiss and crowds him back until they´re flat against the wall once more.

Jared whines and chases his mouth when Jensen pulls back a moment later, pouting when he only receives a grin in return.

“I´d love to have your number, Jay. I´m totally up for some additional _training_. Compare techniques and shit, right?”

The smile those words earn him is blinding and beautiful and enough to have Jensen´s poor dick twitch beneath his towel. Yep, this kid is totally going to kill him.

“We could start right now if you want to? Let me grab a shower and change into real clothes and then go find some food?”

Jensen can´t help but laugh at all this enthusiasm and now he definitely feels like a jerk for having to refuse the offer.

“We can´t. Not tonight. There´s a party waiting for you and I really need to call my team before they think you guys killed me. Believe me, those idiots can be fucking vicious when they want to be….”

As it turns out, Jensen´s right. His phone is already blowing up with messages and calls from Chris and the rest of his team and Jensen quickly sends them a text with his ETA before handing his phone to the giant puppy hovering at his side.

Jared anxiously double-checks the number and only then returns the thing, hesitating for a second before pressing one last lingering kiss to Jensen´s mouth.

“You´ll call me, yes?”

“You bet. Now go and get drunk, bitch. And enjoy the party while you still can, not gonna let you win the finals a second time!”

Jared flips him off on his way out and Jensen grins as he turns to gather his stuff for another shower.

Yeah, they´re going to get along just fine.


End file.
